


Shoulder Rub

by Inell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Married Life, Romance, Sheriff Stiles Stilinski, Surgeon Jackson Whittemore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:03:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6537895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson helps Stiles relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoulder Rub

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked for Stiles/Jackson & Shoulder Rubs from the Non-Sexual Intimacy Meme
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Did you see Dick Head’s latest campaign photo? I mean, how could you miss it, right? It’s plastered all over the fucking town.”

“The one with him and his family, right?” Jackson looks up and arches a brow, watching Stiles stalk around the living room. “Yes, I’ve seen it. I overheard two old women at the grocery store discussing the whole Stepford quality of his wife and children. Empty eyes and no soul is what Mrs. Wagner is insisting, in case you’re keeping track of your staunch supporters.”

“I always knew old Mrs. Wagner loved me.” Stiles grins before making a face. “Does Dick Head give off any creepy supernatural vibes?”

Jackson snorts. “Creepy, yes. Supernatural, no. Unfortunately, he’s just a human. Albeit a rather abnormal example of one.” He watches Stiles pace a little bit longer, tension in his shoulders, the scent of stress tickling Jackson’s nose. “You really need to stop worrying, Stiles. It isn’t good for you to be stressed all the time.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not facing reelection,” Stiles points out, dragging his fingers through his hair before he walks over and practically falls on Jackson’s lap. “This is the first year I’ve actually had to face an opponent, Jackson, and Richard Head not only has parents who obviously hate him for giving him that terrible name, but he has enough money to buy his way into office.”

“He isn’t going to buy anything. Anyway, I’ve already told you that I’ll bankroll whatever you need. I only request that you _never_ call me your sugar daddy in public. I still have Dr. Jenkins asking how my kept boy is doing, the dirty old perv.” Jackson rolls his eyes as he closes his book, setting it on the table beside the sofa. After sliding his glasses off, he begins to rub the nape of Stiles’ neck. “You’ve been sheriff for nearly twelve years now, Stiles. Your stats speak for themselves, and you’ve managed to fool this town into believing you’re a nice, helpful guy instead of the cynical asshole we both know you actually are.”

“Love you, too,” Stiles mutters, shifting on Jackson’s lap until he’s more comfortable. Fortunately, it’s also a better position for Jackson because Stiles’ bony ass isn’t digging into his thigh anymore. Of course, it’s now on his crotch, but he doesn’t mind that at all. Stiles sighs and wiggles around, making Jackson arch a brow as he listens to Stiles’ heartbeat and subtly sniffs the air. Not a sexy wiggle, so much as a stressed and anxious wiggle, which means he’s going to have to distract Stiles to get him to relax then.

“We aren’t going to kidnap children attractive enough to be ours in order for you to compete with Dick Head and his Stepford family,” Jackson warns him, able to guess exactly what Stiles is probably thinking about doing. It’s one of many perks of being romantically involved with Stiles for more than twenty years, considering he’s spent over half his life learning everything there is to know about Stiles, good and bad. Mostly good, though. He watches Stiles roll his neck in a deliberate way that makes Jackson purse his lips to keep from laughing at the obvious request.

“I wasn’t going to kidnap any kids,” Stiles denies, but Jackson knows better. “I was, however, thinking maybe it was time we really started to consider adoption, since we aren’t getting any younger, and the hospital has given you such a cushy promotion recently. Thoughts?”

“If you keep that type of talk up, I’m going to divorce you,” Jackson threatens even as he reaches over and begins to rub Stiles’ shoulders. He works on the tension he can feel, trying to force some of it out of Stiles because, fuck, he needs to relax, and this stupid election needs to be over. He’s stayed out of it because he knows Stiles is going to win. No one even likes Dick Head, and there’s even been an accusation of fraud regarding the signatures obtained to get him on the ballot in the first place. Maybe it’s time he stop sitting around, though, and actually do a little behind the scenes work to ensure Dick Head isn’t even able to run. That’d help Stiles get over this anxiety, thus improving Jackson’s world, too.

“Lie.” Stiles ducks his head, shifting back a little, letting Jackson dig his thumbs into his muscles as he tries to alleviate that knot of tension. “You won’t ever divorce me. You’re stuck with me until we die, and you know it. You even promised to stay with me if I get old man fat and go bald, so I know it’s true love.”

“I don’t recall ever making that promise,” Jackson teases, lips curving into a slight smile as he rubs Stiles’ shoulders. “I’m way too pretty to be married to a fat bald man.”

Stiles huffs a laugh. “You said it, babe. I’ve even got it recorded. Why do you think I insisted on unique wedding vows instead of the standard generic nonsense? No takebacks. Anyway, it’s only fair since I promised to stay with you even when you’re an egotistical asshole, which is like _all the time_. Besides, you know you’ll always be the pretty one.”

“You say egotistical, I say confident.” Jackson moves his hands up to massage Stiles’ neck, earning a low moan of contentment for his hard work. “And I think you’re beautiful.” He smirks when he hears Stiles’ heartbeat start to race, loving the fact that he can still cause that kind of reaction after twenty years. “You know, I think that talking about adopting children in order to use them for a political campaign nullifies any promises made in our wedding vows.”

“I’d never adopt kids for that reason, and you know it.” Stiles punches Jackson’s thigh hard. “We _are_ getting older, though, and it’s something we probably want to discuss again. Maybe in the next five years or so, at least.”

“Hmph.” Jackson has actually thought about adoption a few times randomly in recent years, but he’s selfish, and he likes having Stiles to himself. He likes being able to go on spur of the moment trips, being able to fuck anywhere without worrying about children being around, being able to just live happy lives without the stress and annoyance that children can cause. He honestly can’t think of many perks to having children, in all honesty. “I didn’t think you were that interested in being a father.”

Stiles shrugs. “I’m not really. I mean, I adore our friends’ kids, being the cool uncle is awesome, but I like them going away after a few hours, too.” He squeezes Jackson’s knee when Jackson digs particularly deep into his skin by his right shoulder. “I just know we’re not going to be able to wait forever if it’s something we might want.”

“I don’t think it is,” Jackson admits, rubbing Stiles’ shoulder until the tension is gone. “I like it just being us. That hasn’t really changed, and we’re turning forty next year, so I think we’d know if we wanted them by now.”

“Huh. That’s good.” Stiles looks over his shoulder and smiles. “I just figured I’d suggest it, in case you wanted to think about it. I mean, I don’t particularly want any, but I’m not vehemently opposed, either.”

Jackson leans forward to brush a kiss against Stiles’ neck. “We can revisit the idea in another five or ten years,” he decides, not going to rule out the possibility since maybe they’ll change their minds when they get even older. He leans back and goes back to rubbing Stiles’ shoulders. “So, feel any better?”

“You’ve got magic hands, you smug ass,” Stiles murmurs, melting back against him. “I didn’t feel bad, really. I just hate seeing those stupid signs with Dick Head and his family. I’ve had to deal with some detractors because of our ‘lifestyle choices’, the prejudice douchebags, and seeing happy family man Dick Head is just frustrating.”

“Happy family man. Yeah right,” Jackson grumbles, knowing better than to trust that public image. He’s going to have to text Danny and start investigating this guy because there’s no way he’s letting Stiles deal with this shit for another four months. He stops rubbing Stiles’ shoulders and tugs him against his chest. “Why don’t you find something to watch? I need a break from the medical journal, anyway.”

“Awww. You’re choosing mindless television with me over some cutting edge surgical boring nonsense?” Stiles kisses his jaw before reaching for the remote. “Just for that, I’ll find something we’ll both enjoy.”

“Good.” That means no hospital programs or cop shows because they always avoid things that remind them of work when they want to veg and relax. Jackson holds Stiles against him, smiling slightly as he starts some old comedy they’ve seen a dozen times. Stiles is relaxed now, thoughts on Jackson and a movie instead of elections and Dick Head, which means Jackson’s been successful at distracting him. Preening just a little because he’s a fucking amazing husband, Jackson sighs contentedly as he tightens his arms around Stiles. He’ll deal with Dick Head tomorrow. Tonight, he’s going to enjoy some mindless movie with his husband.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)


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